


There's Magic in You

by TimmyJaybird



Series: Beasts of Old [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Bloodplay, Cannibalism, Fairy Tale Retellings, Gore, Knotting, M/M, Were-Creatures, dark au, how do you tag werewolf sex, lowkey witchy Dick, the cannibalism is not (at first), the sex is consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:45:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7798726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick has a pension for nightmares, for the creatures that stalk the nights in tales that should have lulled him to sleep as a boy. Now, face to face with a beast straight from fairy tales, he's shockingly at <i>ease</i> with the knowledge that this could be his end... if the beast wills it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Magic in You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hannigramcracker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannigramcracker/gifts).



> I'm just going to dedicate every Sladin fic I write to my girlfriend, apparently.
> 
> For the love of fuck, read the warnings please. This isn't a pretty fic.
> 
> Also I was debating turning this into a series, so you know, let me know if you want more of this sort of thing. (Granted it might just happen anyway)

Twigs snapped beneath Dick’s feet, as the heels of his boots dug into the soil. He was well off the path he had been told to take, had gotten distracted by a thicket of flowering bushes and then an array of nuts that had scattered along the floor around them. He knew he should have followed the path, but his basket was brimming with not only the treats Bruce had made sure he left home with, but flowers and nuts now that he could share with the distant relative Bruce had him visiting.

 

He glanced around, trying to figure out the direction he had come from, when he heard rustling behind him. He jumped, gripping his basket tight in one hand, his other reaching up to tug at the red hood of his cloak, keeping it tight around him. From behind a few thick trees a great beast appeared, seeming like it stood up to his chest easily, with muttled grey fur and a single, shimmering eye. The other boasted a heavy scar and seemed sewn shut.

 

It opened it’s jaws, showed off it’s shockingly white teeth, and  _ spoke _ in the same tongue as Dick. “You seem lost, child.”

 

Dick inclined his head, studying the great beast- a wolf of sorts, he assumed, before he said, “I stepped off the path and cannot find my way.”

 

“Where are you trying to go?”

 

“The village well over the hills. My father has me visiting an old family friend of his. I’ve brought a small cake to cheer her up, for she is ill.”

 

He smirked, as best as he could with his muzzle. “What a sweet little bird you are.” He took a few steps towards Dick, his paws nimble, stepping around the twigs and making not a sound, as his large tail  _ swished _ behind him. Dick felt his heart rate picking up, but before the beast got to close he turned, pointed with his snout. “The path is a few yards in that direction. Best not stray again boy, it’s a dangerous place, these woods.”

 

Dick nodded, gripping the basket handle tightly in his hands- and after one last long, curious look- hurrying in the direction the wolf had suggested.

 

*

 

The beast watched him go, before his smirk grew, thin lips pulled back to bare all the white of his canines. He turned, hurrying on sure feet through the forest. While the boy may have needed a path to keep from getting lost, he knew this woods like the points of his own teeth.

 

It took little time to find the spare village the boy spoke of. The first house was set well before the rest, on a massive expanse of land that simply screamed  _ wealth _ in the human world.

 

The beast hated the stink of it.

 

His paws carried him along the fresh grass, towards the large front door. There was a bell hanging by the latch, and he got his paws on the sturdy wood, reached up and jingled it with his nose.

 

There was silence for a moment, and then shuffling, somewhere within the great house- his keen ear picked it up, just as his nose picked up the scent of the oncoming rain. Already, the sky was greying over. “Who is it?” came a hoarse voice, from disuse, from a throat coughed raw.

 

The beast took a moment to settle his throat, attempting to keep the baritone of his voice minimal, to make it  _ lighter _ . “I have come through the woods to bring you treats,” he said, not knowing the boy’s name but pulling from his few moments with him- the smell of incense and luxury that wafted off him- the beast assumed wealth, from a father perhaps? “Father has sent me- may I come in? I fear my red hood will not keep the coming rain from my hair!”

 

There was more noise, and then- “Ah, sweet child! I should have known dear Brucie would never forget a family friend. Come in, come in, simply lift the latch.” The beast pushed it with his muzzle and it gave, allowing him to push open the door. He slid inside, the house fairly dark- lit by the quickly giving sunlight sneaking in through windows. “I am in the kitchen child. Come, come, I have been ill these past few days and could use some company over tea. Why, did you borrow your brother’s cloak again? Is he still causing trouble?”

 

The beast locked away the knowledge that there were  _ more _ and crept towards the kitchen, which had a lamp burning on the large table. Across from it, by the crackling fireplace bent an old woman, her shawl pulled up tight around her shoulders. Her stoop seemed partial from the position and part from age, and the beast tapped his claws against her wooden floor.

 

“Do not be shy, boy,” she said, straightening up. “We’ll have water for the tea in a moment-” she turned, her words trailing off when she caught sight of the beast. Her eyes went wide, and as the scream began to ripple from her tired throat, he lunged.

 

*

 

Dick tugged his cloak tightly around him, hurrying against the wind. The air smelled like rain, and the sky was crackling and rumbling. He worried he’d be caught out in the storm, and could have cried with joy when he saw the old house, set far before the village. He vaguely remembered it from when he was  _ truly _ a boy, when his youngest brother had been nothing but a child wrapped in a blanket that he’d had to carry the whole way, when the family had come to visit.

 

Bruce-  _ father _ \- had so many friends all across the land that Dick seldom saw them more than once in what felt like a lifetime.

 

He hurried towards the house, reaching up with one hand and flicking the bell, just as the sky began to open up. Heavy but sparse drops began to fall onto him, as the wind pushed his hood completely off. When there was only silence, Dick rang it again, before noticing the latch to the door was lifted. He frowned, pushing at the old wood. It creaked and gave, opening on old hinges.

 

He peeked inside, was met by darkness. The sky gave little light now, and not a candle or lamp was lit. He stepped inside, pulling the heavy door shut behind him and latching it properly. “Hello?” he called, getting both hands on the handle of his basket again. He twisted it, as he heard  _ something _ from his left. He turned, the hallway leading towards the kitchen, and took a few tentative steps towards the sound. “Grandmother?” he called, even as he cringed over it- Bruce had  _ told _ him to refer to her as such, that she liked the dotting affection of youth, that it made her feel  _ special _ .

 

He barely remembered her and it felt strange to try and give her any sort of affectionate title.

 

“Come further, child.”

 

The voice did  _ not _ come from a woman. Dick paused, could see the corner of the table, a lamp that had burnt out recently. He could faintly smell it, against the scent of the hearth’s fire- he could hear that crackling.

 

But underneath that, there was something  _ else _ .

 

“Grandmother? You do not sound well.” Dick paused again, after only one step. There was a beat of silence, and then,

 

“Closer child. Seeing you will cure me of any sickness.”

 

Dick twisted the basket handle in his hands, before taking a steeling breath and continuing. He stepped into the kitchen, boots echoing off the wooden floor-

 

And promptly dropped the basket. It crashed to the floor, spilled the nuts he had gathered all over, the flowers fluttering and littering the floor. Next to the heart, which still crackled with life, lay the woman he vaguely remembered if he  _ tried _ hard enough. She was sprawled on her back, head tipped, eyes opened wide in shock. Her mouth was slack, and the meat of her throat was completely torn out, blood pooled around her shoulders and head, strings of flesh and tissue on the floor.

 

And looming over her was a beast of  _ nightmares _ .

 

Dick’s throat closed up on the scream he wanted to give, as the beast- standing on two legs like a man but covered in thick muttled grey fur like a creature- smirked, showing off his pink stained teeth. The fur of his slightly shortened muzzle was stained. “Hello, boy.”

 

And the voice clicked into place, slotted into the holes of his memory. The wolf from the path.

 

“What… what are you…” Dick managed, staring, as the beast took a step over the woman’s body, his tail swaying, as if keeping him balanced. He seemed huge, even larger than when he had been on all fours, and Dick felt his legs trembling. The creature only kept its smirk, pausing to stoop over, to drag a single claw along Dick’s face. Dick’s heart fluttered, nearly gave out- but something else was turning in him, some sort of knot in his belly that sent heat between his thighs.

 

The wolf- hellbeast perhaps- smelled of blood and the forest, and Dick, so sure he was going to die in that moment, reached out when the claw pulled from his face, gripped it in his hands. His fingers moved along the fur, which felt strangely soft and not bristley, before one fingertip traced a single, long claw to it’s point. The creature watched with a single shimmering eye, before its other claw reached out, gripped at Dick’s waist beneath his cloak. “Curious boy,” he mumbled, and Dick, he moved  _ closer _ , his heart in his throat now.

 

There was something about the thrill of knowing he was going to die-

 

The beast leaned further, nosed at his hair, breathed a hot breath into his ear. Dick shivered, hands going for his large biceps, sinking into the fur there and gripping tightly. “You should  _ run _ .”

 

Dick knew there was merit to that- knew he was  _ crazy _ , but the spike in his pulse, it made him feel alive in ways that he felt he had ached for, in his  _ dreams _ . He only turned his head away slightly, allowed the beast to nuzzle his neck, breathe in his hammering pulse.

 

“I’m going to die,” Dick said, because that was a truth he could not ignore, “running will not change that.” His fingers shifted, and he  _ liked _ the feeling of the fur. “I’ll enjoy my last few moments instead.”

 

There was a rumbling chuckle, and the claw at his waist tightened, the other reaching into his hair, pulling his head up. Dick winced, as the beast lifted his head.

 

“Remarkable boy,” he murmured, eye studying his face, “I should eat your heart.”

 

Dick shivered over that, his mouth falling open in a quiet gasp, and suddenly the beast was picking him up, hauling him over his shoulder. Dick didn’t fight, simply curled his hands in the fur along his back, allowed the beast the carry him through the dark house. As his clawed feet fit the stairs, they creaked, echoed by a loud shout of thunder, outside. It was only then that Dick heard the pound of rain against the house.

 

Once up the stairs and down a hallway, the beast threw a door open. Across the room, and Dick was dropped down onto a bed, sprawling out on his back and arching slightly as he bounced. Claws came for his clothing, ripping and tearing, the ends tracing his skin but not scratching.

 

He wasn’t scared. And he must have  _ smelled _ anything but, because the beast was at his neck, mouth opening and teeth pressing in, holding but not puncturing as he stripped Dick beneath him. Dick squirmed, gasping- trembled but from this strange sort of desire in his belly, the kind he’d get when his brothers would all pass around old fables about demons and gargoyles- about creatures that could fly into your room and skin you before you even woke.

 

Dick liked the nightmares. And apparently, the nightmares liked him.

 

When the beast pulled from his neck, he had torn Dick’s clothing to shreds. Bits clung to his legs, stuffed into his boots, and his cloak clung tattered beneath him. Dick stared up, throwing out his arms to the side and tipping his head back, eyes glossy as he stared up.

 

“You promised to eat my heart,” he offered, as the beast took in all the lovely ways the dark shadows played against his darker skin. “Are you not bound by your word?”

 

The beast growled, and suddenly Dick was flipped over, onto his belly. He shifted, his cock rubbing against the blanket as his face pressed into it. It smelled like peppermint balm, burned his nose pleasantly as he breathed in. He dug his hands into the blanket, lifting his base ass, as he felt a clawed hand gripping one cheek, squeezing the flesh, those eyes boring down into him, down to the marrow in his bones.

 

“Wicked boy,” he breathed, “you want this.”

 

Dick  _ did _ .

 

The beast moved, his weight lifting off Dick, and Dick lifted his head, watched as the creature tore at the nightstand next to the bed. The drawer nearly came out, but a moment later, clutched something  _ daintily _ in his large hand, was a glass bottle. Dick watched him circle back, heard the cork being removed- and then felt the cool oil was it was drizzled down onto his ass.

 

“Do you dream of nightmares, boy?” he asked, one claw pulling at his ass again, the oil sliding down over his hole now, dripping down sensitive skin and along his balls. “Do the beasts of old make your thighs quiver?”

 

Dick bit at his lip, squirming, because  _ yes _ , they did. Everything that bumped and breathed and  _ growled _ in the night set him up in flames, made him squirm and want and shove his fingers into his own body, when he hoped everyone else was long asleep. He managed a nod, and the beast leaned over him- and Dick could feel his cock, sliding between his asscheeks. He pushed back, and the beast gave a breathy hybrid of a chuckle and a growl.

 

“Oh little bird,” he offered, one claw reaching out and grasping onto Dick’s shoulder, “how I’ll make you sing.”

 

He leaned his hips back, before snapping them forward. His cock pushed at Dick’s hole, slick from sliding along the oil he’d spilled on Dick, before pushing inside. Dick yelped, jerking back, eyes going wide- the beast’s cock was far thicker than his fingers, filled him in a way that made it impossible to even breathe. His body burned for a moment- but the oil at least made the way he slid back easier, before he slammed forward again.

 

Dick bowed his head as the beast pulled him back to meet each thrust, the claws on his shoulders digging in. Dick was sigging his knees into the bed now, pushing himself up on his hands and knees to better help push back as well. Despite the ache down in his core, he felt  _ better _ than he ever had, when he touched himself. His fingers left him wanting more, and while he could brush that spot inside him that made him see stars- the beast was completely pressing to it, with each thrust.

 

Dick’s mouth fell open as he began to pant. His cock hung between his legs, smacking up against his belly with each powerful thrust. It dripped precum down onto the blanket, smeared it along his abs- and DIck wanted to touch, but he was terrified if he moved his hands from the bed he’d fall.

 

“How does it feel boy?” the beast growled, and Dick swallowed thickly, his lips feel wet from the way his jaw was limp, the fact that he swore his mouth was  _ watering _ .

 

“Hea-ven,” Dick managed, the word broken by a thrust. The burn was subsiding quickly- Dick had enough experience with himself that willing his body to relax, to open up, wasn’t difficult. The beast grunted, and suddenly his muzzle was between Dick’s shoulder blades, body enveloping him at he nuzzled. The bed creaked angrily as he thrust harder, impossibly fast and making Dick nearly scream each time.

 

Against his loud cries he could hear, “That’s it, sing for me.” He shuddered, a breathy  _ more _ escaping him- and if he was going to die, he’d die in a fire of pure bliss. The beast fucked into him harder, as if he aimed to tear Dick asunder- and Dick  _ wanted _ it that way. He screamed and cried out, his throat aching and raw, his tongue feeling heavy, unable to form real words. His cock was throbbing, and he swore he was there, he was straddling his orgasm and yet somehow not  _ falling _ .

 

The beast raked one claw down his side, leaving thick red lines in his wake as the skin welled up. Dick shuddered, keening high in his throat.

 

“Harlot,” spoke the beast, “you’d let death fuck you if he so much as smiled at you.”

 

Dick turned, staring back. His eyes were dark, cheeks flushed as his cock, lips and chin wet from his own saliva. “Are you death?” he asked, spreading his thighs further, until his hips began to ache. The beast bared his teeth, and Dick stared at them, at the slick white of them and the pink stains from the old woman’s blood-

 

He came, staring at them, crying out as his body seized up around the beast’s cock. Behind him the beast grabbed at him, claws digging in and puncturing skin in perfect small points. His hips moved erratically, and Dick could feel the cock inside him swelling  _ more _ , around the base- before the beast’s knot was suddenly forcing it’s way inside him. Dick cried out, eyes rolling back, his cock twitching, still dripping thick strings of cum onto the blanket, as the beast gave a few final, shallow thrusts, and came inside him.

 

The burst of heat had Dick mewling, his head falling forward. His arms gave out and he sank down to the bed, knees still bracing him and keeping his ass raised. He buried his face in his arms, gave a blissed-out sob, as the world began to go black, and he couldn’t be sure if he had closed his eyes or if he was finally dying.

 

*

 

The beast curled himself around the boy, kept him pulled back into the heat of his body. He was breathing calmly, exhausted it would seem. He laid with him, heavy arms around him, until his own body had calmed and he could pull from the boy’s heat. When he did he bit back his own sound, wanted to stay inside him for  _ eternity _ . He felt like heavenly silk heated in hell’s most prized flames.

 

Carefully, the beast stood glancing at the boy who still slept, before crossing the room. In the hallway he rolled his neck, skin and bone and muscle  _ itching _ , before he tossed his head back and closed his eye, allowing his body to  _ change _ . The snap of bone and tear of muscle was a momentary agony he had felt thousands of times, one he barely recognized now. His lifetime was endless, and he had long since learned how to tune out the heated pain of the magic that allowed him to take many forms.

 

When he opened his eye again and glanced down, there was no fur that covered his body- only skin and thatches of grey hair, along his chest, trailing down to the nest where his cock lay. He smirked, giving his shoulders another roll, before he continued down the stairs.

 

He stepped into the kitchen, glanced at the old woman on the floor. He walked towards her, stepping over her body and crouching down, reaching out to grasp her chin. He jerked her head back, examining the lacerations at her throat from his teeth. He sucked on his tongue, could still faintly taste the blood in his mouth. He stood back up, stepping over her again and heading for her cupboards, rummaging through them. When he came back, it was with a sharp, heavy knife- looking like it was more for hunting than anything she could be doing in her kitchen.

 

But oh, everyone had  _ secrets _ , and it made him wonder what ones she once held in her chest.

 

He pushed the knife just below her throat lacerations, easing it down to cut open her clothing. He pulled them apart, left her torso naked, before he brought the knife back. He jabbed it down, beneath her sternum, then with a strong arm- strong in ways his mortal seeming body could not be- he dragged it down, slicing her open. The man settled the blade between his still inhumanly sharp teeth, reaching his hands into her and grabbing at her ribs, cracking them. The sound echoed through the kitchen, the heavy  _ crack _ of bone, the slick, wet tearing of flesh and tissue as she was opened up.

 

Against the sound of it, the man didn’t hear the the bare footsteps on the wood. It was only when he felt  _ eyes _ staring into him, that he looked up.

 

The boy was there, in the doorway, watching. He had stripped of the shreds of his clothing, left his boots behind- and he was nothing but glorious, dark skin that the beast could sink his teeth into.

 

He reached up, pulled the knife from his mouth. “Hello boy.” The boy glanced up at him, and in a voice that was far sturdier than the beast expected-

 

“I’m alive.”

 

No question, only a statement.

 

The beast smirked, showing off the white of his teeth. “That you are.” He held a hand out, offering it to him. “Come here child.”

 

The boy- and oh, he shouldn’t  _ think _ of him as a boy, but all humans felt like nothing but flickers in time, compared to his years. But the boy walked across the floor, took the beast’s hand and stepped over the woman’s legs. He sank down onto his knees, and the beast reached around him, trapped him within his arms and reached forward with his knife, into the woman.

 

To his credit, the boy watched. “You’re not averting your eyes.”

 

“I’ve seen death,” the boy admitted, and the beast glanced at the perfect curve of his back. “My parents died in front of me. My brothers and sister have lost parents. People get sick and they  _ die _ around us. Death is not something to look away from.”

 

“Clever boy,” the beast offered, as he got one hand around what he was trying for, within the woman’s chest. He held the flesh in his hand, the knife working to cut it free.

 

The boy said nothing for a moment, and then, “Do you have a name?”

 

It was a curious thing to ask, all things considered- and the beast smiled. “I do, as all creatures do.”

 

When he didn’t offer it up, the boy cleared his throat. “My name is Richard,” he said, “Richard Grayson Wayne… Dick, to most.” It made him seem  _ young _ , reciting it as if he was standing in front of a group of peers for the first time.

 

The beast chuckled, turned and pressed his mouth to the boy’s shoulder. “Grayson sounds like a wolf’s name,” he murmured, “are you sure you do not belong to my kin?” Dick shivered over that, and when the beast turned, nuzzled his hair, he could smell the ghost of raindrops in it. He exhaled, and then, very softly, “Slade.”

 

Dick clutched his hands into fists, pressed them against his own thighs. “What are you?”

 

“Ancient,” was all he was given, as Slade set the knife aside, pulling one hand from inside the woman’s chest. He locked that arm around Dick’s waist, one bloody hand gripping at his waist, near the puncture wounds he still boasted from Slade’s claws. “Endless,” he added, brushing his nose along Dick’s neck. Dick tipped his head to the side, as Slade kissed gently.

 

He could worship in this form in ways he could  _ not _ when he was beastial, and in this moment, he appreciated that.

 

“You must be starved,” Slade murmured, his other hand gripping at the sinewy, stringy tissue inside the woman. He tugged, strength breaking off pieces within his fingers. He pulled them free, his hand glistening, offering them up to Dick. Dick’s dark eyes went wide, and he glanced back at Slade.

 

“You  _ eat _ us.”

 

“Haven’t you listened to your bedtime stories?” he asked. “Now open wide, little bird.” He reached up, and Dick pinched his lips shut, trembling- terrified but not  _ running _ . The fact that he didn’t try to escape, that he knew and expressed that it was impossible- his pure  _ acceptance _ of things endlessly intrigued Slade. He pressed his bloody fingers to Dick’s mouth, and after a moment they opened, and he forced a small bit of meat into his mouth.

 

Dick grimaced, his teeth pressing down into it. It squelched between the points, oozed a small wave of coppery blood into his mouth. Raw, it was tough, and Dick felt he spent hours chewing before he could finally force it down his throat. There was a moment where the air was still around him, and then his stomach betrayed him, grumbling against the crackling of the low fire, and Slade was laughing.

 

“See child?” His hand returned, and Dick turned his face, got a smear of blood on his cheek for his efforts. “Do not deny yourself.”

 

Dick hesitated, before turning finally, allowing Slade to push another piece into his mouth. It was easier to chew this time, and when Dick swallowed he was leaning forward, sucking the man’s fingers into his mouth and lapping the blood off them. Slade’s eye lit up, as he let a low groan rumble up his chest.

 

“Careful boy,” he mumbled, “you’ll make me want to take you again.”

 

Dick reached up, got his hands around Slade’s wrist and held his hand in place, letting his fingers- now wet with his spit- fall from his mouth, only to lick down to his palm. His pulse was picking up again, and he wasn’t sure if it was despite of or  _ because of _ the tangy, metal scent in the air. The fleshy taste in his mouth somehow made him  _ hungry _ , and he couldn’t be entirely sure what was overcoming him-

 

But the prospect of having Slade inside him  _ again _ was something he definitely wanted.

 

Dick squirmed, turned in Slade’s arms and forced him down. The man sat on the wooden floor, and Dick crawled into his lap, straddling him and reaching down, wrapping a hand around the man’s cock- still somewhat slick form the oil that Dick could feel on his thighs- and began stroking.

 

Slade tipped his head back, sighing as Dick squirmed. “Insatiable,” he offered, and Dick’s eyes lit up. He smirked, like he was drawing the wickedness right from Slade, and squeezed his quickly hardening cock. “What magic do you have in you, boy?”

 

“Rip me open and find out,  _ beast _ .”

 

Slade growled, reaching for Dick’s hips and grasping them. He released his cock, shifting forward and lifting up- and then Dick was easing down, his body opening back up without hesitation as Slade nestled inside his body. Dick sighed, tipping his head back, and Slade bent down, went for his throat. He nuzzled, kissed his pulse, before sinking his teeth down around it, feeling it throb against his tongue.

 

Dick shivered. “What big teeth you have,” he whispered, as Slade’s nails, still sharp, dug into his sides.

 

“All the better to eat you with, dear child.” He pulled off, bit at Dick’s shoulder now, and Dick shivered, riding him quickly. His own cock was hard again, but he was grasping at the man’s biceps as he lifted himself, too distracted to even touch. Slade smirked, staring up, letting go of Dick’s hips with one hand to reach towards the woman’s body, leaning and delving his hand inside her.

 

When he came back, clutched tightly in his fist was the thick mass of her heart. He held it up and Dick glanced at it, slowing his movements until he was still. Slade offered it to him, and Dick’s eyes darted from the bloody shape to Slade’s single glinting eye, and then back again.

 

“Open your mouth, pretty bird,” he whispered, leaning closer- and Dick, he  _ did it _ . He opened his mouth, tipping his head slightly, and when Slade pressed the hard mass to his mouth he sank his teeth in. The flesh gave, parted, the wet sound of it spurting into his mouth echoing. The blood ran down his chin, dripping off it towards his chest, as Dick tore his teeth in, couldn’t tear a piece off but swallowed down the mouthful of blood he was given. “That’s it,” Slade offered, as Dick reached up, cupping his hands around Slade’s, around the heart. He pulled back, tore in again, looking ravenous, as his hips began to move. Slade reached down, his hand sliding along Dick’s hip to grip his ass, squeeze as the younger continued riding him again.

 

Slade watched the blood dripping down his chin, running down his throat, over his hands and along his delicate wrists. He smirked, knew the boy couldn’t handle the touch heart-meat with the teeth he had, but this, this was  _ enough _ . It made his cock ache, made it twitch inside Dick. When he tried to pull the heart away Dick tried to pull it back, staring with wild and needing eyes.

 

Slade forced his hand free, dropped it to the floor, forgotten, as he gripped Dick’s chin with his bloody hand, leaning in to kiss him. His mouth was metallic and salty, and Slade could have drowned in it, worked his tongue along each point of his teeth. Dick reached forward, sank both his bloody hands into Slade’s grey hair and tugged, wrapping the long strands around his fingers as he began to move faster.

 

He panted into Slade’s mouth, his body aching, screaming for release. His cock bobbed forward, brushed the hair along Slade’s lower belly, leaving precum behind, as Dick leaned over him, forcing the beast’s tongue from his mouth, back into his own. When Dick’s tongue pushed against the sharp points of Slade’s teeth, the man groaned, bucking his hips up. Dick pulled off then, gasping, a smile crossing his face as he tipped his head back, hands falling from Slade’s hair to grip at his shoulders, hold himself steady as he moved faster. He was losing his rhythm but Slade didn’t care- enthralled by the way the fire threw shadows on his skin, lit him up golden along the edges. And when Dick glanced down at him, Slade swore he saw the stars in his eyes, having gone black as the night sky.

 

Dick cried out his name when he came, shuddering and clenching so tight around him Slade could barely move. But the way his body went tight around him was enough, and Dick’s orgasm milked Slade dry as he leaned forward, pressing into Dick’s neck again. He breathed in deep, and beneath the blood around them and on Dick’s skin, beneath the rain that had tried in his hair, was that incense scent again, clinging to his skin sweetly, like burnt out coals dipped in lavender.

 

Dick began to relax, slumping forward, and Slade kissed his throat tenderly, getting his arms around him and allowing him to rest his weight against Slade’s body. He splayed his hands on Dick’s back, sucking at his pulse until Dick gave a tired whine, and Slade lifted his head, flashed the devil’s smile.

 

“There’s magic in you, boy,” he offered, and Dick’s eyes were still dark, but his smile was satisfied.

 

“Oh?” As if to emphasize, he squeezed his body around Slade’s cock, and earned a groan from the beast. “Is there now?” Slade grinned, digging his nails into Dick’s back, as Dick added, “Magic enough to tame a beast?”

 

“Perhaps,” Slade admitted, kissing his jaw, tongue lapping at the blood still thick there. “You truly are remarkable, little bird.”

 

Dick shivered over the praise, let his eyes fall shut, still filled with the same calm he had found when he  _ accepted _ that he was going to die.

 

Except- he was fairly sure, in that moment, if he did, it wouldn’t be by the beast’s hand.


End file.
